


Beacon of Hope(less)

by VastDelusion



Series: Spooktober [7]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Dreams, Geographical Isolation, Halloween, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Isolation, Lighthouse Keeper Noiz, Lighthouses, M/M, Mental Instability, Mythology - Freeform, Siren Aoba Seragaki, Sirens, Spooktober, Winter, noiao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26524909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VastDelusion/pseuds/VastDelusion
Summary: Noiz has just begun to tend to an old lighthouse, a pretty lucrative, but isolated career. As he was getting acquainted with his new job, he received one warning: to plug his ears with cotton while he slept. He assumed it was because the tide came in and the waves were noisy against the pier. One night, however, he forgets the cotton and hears a gentle, captivating voice, only slightly louder than the wind. He craves to find the source of the voice, or he thinks he might go mad.The source, however, is not at all what he expected it to be.(You don't have to know who the characters are/have watched the series to enjoy this!! 😊👻)
Relationships: Noiz & Seragaki Tae, Noiz/Seragaki Aoba
Series: Spooktober [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920424
Kudos: 17





	Beacon of Hope(less)

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Spooktober series! If you would like to request a pairing/prompt, feel free to comment below! Thanks for reading!! ❤❤
> 
> (This is my first NoiAo fic, and I know DMMD is practically obsolete now, so bear with me. I also haven't played the visual novel/watched the anime for awhile, but I couldn't resist including these two in my Spooktober collection.)

The old Midorijima lighthouse had stood on the pier for longer than people had lived on the island. Many people, children and adults alike, claimed it was haunted. With it's silhouette dark against the night sky, itself, its light a ghost in the harbor, it was easy to believe. And, between the isolation of its location and its terrible reputation, it was nearly an impossible feat to keep a lighthouse keeper. 

They had to recruit from out of town, and there was no better man for the job than Wilhelm "Noiz" Schmidt, a tall, reclusive German man out of work from Germany's recent, war-induced economic depression, who came to Midorijima searching for a better life.

Noiz was accustomed to isolation; he never had any friends growing up, and his parents had sheltered him dreadfully. He came to Midorijima alone. He would leave alone, when the occasion arose. 

The description was relatively simple: tend to the lighthouse, change her bulb when needed, keep her clean and ensure no teenagers get wandering eyes and try to break in for a couple of cheap thrills. Then, a simple warning: before he slept, he needed to put wads of cotton in his ears. 

A strange warning, but Noiz suspected it was a simple cause. The increased elevation, perhaps, or the waves against the pier were loud and difficult to sleep over. 

He was to begin that very night, so he packed up his few belongings from the room he was staying at the inn and made his trek up the steep hill. 

He unlocked the plain door with the key he was given and stepped inside, the tall walls protecting him from the wind and weather. He suspected it was to rain later. 

He journeyed up the tall, spiral staircase that led to the platform on which he would be staying. It was furnished minimally and modestly, with a cot in the corner, a small furnace to warm his chilled bones, an area that was too small to be called a kitchen, but was enough for him to prepare his meals, and a wooden rocking chair. It was spacious enough to store the books he brought from Berlin, as well as his few articles of clothing and other minor possessions. 

He lit one of the kerosene lanterns and settled into the rocking chair with one of his books, spending his evening in silence. He made himself a simplistic dinner, consisting of sausage and bland bread, before making his rounds and retiring for the night. 

He eyed the cotton curiously, but still obeyed the orders and placed them snugly in his ears. He no longer could hear the cries of the wind or the tossing of the sea against the rocky pier. 

As he slept, he dreamed of a figure that over the last year kept reoccurring to him. Delicate, pale skin, with long, blue tendrils of hair caressing his arms and back. He held a soft look in his eyes, colored the same as coffee with cream mixed in. He was thin, beautiful, ethereal, and had the voice of an angel, but Noiz never could understand what he was trying to communicate with him. Instead, he watched the angelic man in awe. 

The vision was ripped from him as he opened his eyes, the kerosene lantern long extinguished and the taste of midmorning lingering on his tongue. He pushed his covers aside as rose for the day, prepared for what it entailed. 

After a couple of days, Noiz understood what the man who hired him meant when he said "isolation". Not that he minded, but there wasn't a soul to talk to, or even catch a glimpse of unless it was the outline of a ship in the harbor, or a ship caught by the guiding light of the lighthouse. Even when he left the lighthouse to buy food and books, people were scarce, although Noiz wasn't sure if they were avoiding him or if it was the other way around. 

Every couple of weeks, a kind, elderly woman named Seragaki Tae would bring him a homecooked meal and sit with him for an hour. Winter was quickly approaching, and she had warned him that it was her last visit until the spring. 

"Winter is an unforgiving season, especially in a place such as this. Between the biting cold and the loneliness, it is difficult to endure. Keep your wits about you, Wilhelm." 

As a hot-blooded German male, he knew well the cruelty of winter. However, there was one question that was prevalent in his mind. 

"And, the cotton?"

"You'd best keep it in your ears at night."

"Why? Is it the loudness of the ocean, or the wind?" 

She clicked her tongue and shifted her gaze between the empty plates between them and the young man. 

"It is best that you don't have to find out." She placed a wrinkled hand on his before packing up the dishes and bidding him farewell. 

He obeyed Tae's advice and kept his wits about him and placed the cotton in his ears at night. He stocked up on food and supplies to prepare for the upcoming cold spell. Winter came a couple of weeks later, and Noiz warmed his hands on the furnace, trying to be rid of the bitter cold that surrounded him. He loaded his cot with thick blankets and wore his scratchy flannel underwear beneath his clothes, but his bones remained chilled. 

Winter also began to take its toll on him mentally, being cooped up all hours of the day in the lighthouse as he heard voices that didn't have a source and began seeing the beautiful man in his waking hours, a hallucination no doubt. Between the biting cold and his mental unsoundness, Noiz wasn't sure what was worse: to have remained in Berlin and barely scrape by, or to be cooped up in the 50 meters of unforgiving metal, never completely sure whether he was awake or asleep.

After making his rounds and eating a large dinner, he read his book in the rocking chair, and his eyelids began to feel heavy. He resisted, but inevitably fell into the warm arms of repose. 

An hour later, he woke to the voice. It was gentle, angelic, beautiful, barely heard over the hypnotic music of the waves crashing against the pier. He had heard it before. He shot up from his chair, his book falling carelessly to the floor. 

He had to find the source of the voice, or he was convinced he would be driven mad. Dressing in as many layers as he could manage, he left the sanctuary of the lighthouse, braving the subzero temperatures of the tundra outside. He followed the mesmerizing voice down to the pier, the icy waters washing over his boots and pant legs. He could see the lighthouse, a beacon of hope, standing proudly on its summit, the light of protection circling the waters below. 

Noiz turned his head and saw the source. A young man, his blue hair blowing in the wind. He was completely naked, standing in the water, continuing his gorgeous song. 

It was the man from his dreams, and he was even more beautiful than he had previously seen. 

He stepped further into the ocean, watching this ethereal figure standing still in the frigid cold waters, not showing a sign of discomfort. Noiz could no longer feel the cold, the pain it caused. Instead, he felt content, awestruck by the unmatchable beauty that stood before him. 

The man beckoned to him with a delicate, pale hand, and Noiz couldn't resist his call. At last, he stood in his midst, hardly a centimeter of space separating them. The man wrapped his arms around his neck, his eyes the color of coffee staring deeply into his. Their breaths they shared, manifesting as mist. The man pressed his lips to Noiz's and he felt free, liberated from the world, and the cruelty of the human psyche.

There never was a man happier to drown.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Spooktober series! If you would like to request a pairing/prompt, feel free to comment below! Thanks for reading!! ❤❤


End file.
